Tipping Points for GERALDTON BACK DOORS

[Posted Fri 19 Feb]The Queen’s - Year 1961 The room erupted. The whole room erupted in hoots and hollers and raucous laughter. For a moment Roland Lebel sat frozen. Then his right arm released the captive. He rose to his feet with a roar. Or a howl. His chair toppled. Chantal toppled, off her chair to her right. One door tore off its hinges as Lebel stormed through. Now it was that Auguste felt a stab of concern, for Chantal. She had fallen.

THE END

[Posted Tue 16 Feb]Chapter 37 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH “You son of a bitch.” Latimer bulled his way past the outer door. Kennet took a couple of paces backward. The door snapped shut behind Latimer. They were facing off in the driveway, a metre apart. Latimer clenched his hammy fists down near his hips. “I hear you fight with your feet. You lift one foot off the ground, I’ll ram this down your throat.” He raised his chunky right fist to chest height.

[Posted Fri 12 Feb]Chapter 36 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH Robert was saying, “We’ve got other units mounting a surveillance. This guy, we’ve been watching him since he stepped off the plane this morning.” Kennet felt the hairs lift on the back of his neck. There was a shadow on the blond man’s neck, left side. The man’s gaze encompassed the black Chrysler. Kennet zoomed in on the shadow. It was a tattoo. He lowered the glasses and popped the door.

[Posted Tue 9 Feb]Chapter 35 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH Marchand stepped forward and scooped up the brick. He was wearing latex gloves. “Well,” he said. “This is interesting.” He turned the package over. “And look. The snake brand. This looks like pretty damning evidence.” He looked around the circle. “Anyone see where this came from?” One of the uniforms pointed to Jacob.

[Posted Fri 5 Feb]Chapter 34 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH A muffled response from the dinghy. “Jacob! We got com-pan-y!” Another black form materialized behind the one in the bow. It had to be the guy with his hand on the steering arm of the invisible outboard. This time the response was clear: “I know!” Back in the wall of darkness, a light flashed. Then another. Then another. Jumping around. Sweeping to and fro, up and down.

[Posted Tue 2 Feb]Chapter 33 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH He became aware of a rumble increasing in intensity. Within two minutes the sound had engulfed him, battering him from all sides. What the hell. He imagined the bedrock of the Precambrian Shield vibrating, and rattling, cracking, and shaking loose. The wavelets that his bow cut through remained unchanged. Then a faint light to the southeast. An aura that grew stronger.

[Posted Fri 29 Jan]Chapter 32 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH “Let me ask you something, Johan.” He had the man’s full attention. “When you got up this morning, kissed the wife goodbye, set about the day’s business, did you think, did you ever dream that before the day was out, you could be charged with attempted murder? That but for the grace of God, you would be a murderer?” The man gazed at him, stricken. He shook his head, tightly, as if it might fall off if he moved too quickly.

[Posted Tue 26 Jan]Chapter 31 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH The logging truck had not been noticeably delayed by climbing the hill. It was forging on, closing the space between them. Soon the gap was only fifty metres. Kennet accelerated to seventy-five klicks an hour. An empty truck had no business heading toward the mill in Terrace. Something was going on. A minute later the truck was twenty metres behind him.

[Posted Fri 22 Jan]Chapter 30 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH He had explored every corner of the furnace room. There was no tool that could help him. No tool, no implement, no handy written instructions about how to draw a bolt on the far side of a heavy metal door . . . Nothing in his pockets.

[Posted Tue 19 Jan]Chapter 29 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH The explosion roared again in Kennet’s ears. This time, he saw the leaves fly. The bushes that shrouded the shooter, shaking. Vibrating with the energy of the projectile and the expanding gases and the successive waves of cordite and sulphur. The head exploding. The pink and gray matter smeared on the black finish of the Lexus SUV.

[Posted Fri 15 Jan]Chapter 28 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH “I arrived in time to interrupt the hammer guy. You remember the hammer guy. He visited you just before we met the first time.” The man’s face blanched. “Yeah. That guy. He’s a fugitive from the Balkan wars. Has solid credentials in torture and murder. I can take you to meet him, if you wish. He runs drugs too.” “F-- that. You’re not taking me anywhere . . . “

[Posted Tue 12 Jan]Chapter 27 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH The OPP biker cops had told Marchand that an Angel rarely got busted for breaking the law. They left the dirty work to puppet clubs and low-level criminals. Full-patch Angels provided oversight and connections, national and international. And when the Angels turned their sights on Ontario, the bilingual Chuvalo became the Ontario organizer, using the Monkshoods as the wedge.

[Posted Fri 8 Jan]Chapter 26 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH “Did you notice anything peculiar when we paddled Jackfish Bay?” “That was magical, Kennet. Calm seas at dusk. We got lucky. With our short boats, we’d have been surfing if the rollers came in. Peculiar? No. Just that light.” “Light? What light?”

[Posted Tue 5 Jan]Chapter 25 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH He walked around to the front of the Hummer and placed the flat of his hand on the hood. Cold. But wait. As he held his hand there, he felt a hint of warmth. He lifted his hand. Hell, he wanted to feel the heat rising from a heavily-worked engine. He brought his hand down again. And again. And again. Soon he was pounding the hood rhythmically. The house door flew open . . .

[Posted Fri 1 Jan]Chapter 24 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH And the giant’s right hand shot to his belt and extracted a heavy revolver, which he leveled at Kennet’s chest across the bar. From the gun’s distinctive ventilated rib and the full-length underlug, his mind registered it as a Colt Python. It was a showy piece of weaponry, but it could do the job here - six jobs, if necessary - in a short space of time. Kennet raised his hands to shoulder level.

[Posted Tue 29 Dec]Chapter 23 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH “He isn’t my buddy.” Karl Latimer glared at him through the screen. “And they haven’t won . . . yet. You think my operations are crippled? Not by a long shot.” “Come outside, Karl. I’m not going to assault you. I just want to talk.” Karl released a locking mechanism and shoved the door open. His two-hundred-forty-pound bulk stepped onto the driveway. Kennet retreated a couple of steps to allow him personal space.

[Posted Fri 25 Dec]Chapter 22 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH “Whatever. You said he blindsided you? Lucky you. You’re alive. No bullet for you in the back of the head.” The man’s voice broke on the last few words. Then, no sound on the receiver, as though the caller had muffled the transmitter with his hand. Kennet said, “You lost someone.” No response. Silence. He added, “In the massacre.” The Voice returned. “Yeah.”

[Posted Fri 18 Dec]Chapter 20 - Year 2011 - BAIT AND SNITCH He looked away and gestured toward the street, lit by yellow sodium vapour. “She died out there.” He made another gesture, as though pushing the thought away from him. “Far away. Out there.” He brought his eyes back to Kennet. They were sockets of misery. “She wasn’t found for days. And when they notified me, I travelled there. And I brought her. I brought her home.” “Good.” Kennet groped for words. “That was . . . good.”

[Posted Fri 11 Dec]The Mariaggi - Year 1961 Some of the guys said she was especially pretty. But their eyes still followed her. He didn’t care what they said, she was pretty. And hardworking. Like a mare he once had, when he was working beyond Chicoutimi. At one point one of his companions said to her, “Goin’ to the Queen’s tonight, honey?” She smiled at him, and ducked her head.

[Posted Tue 8 Dec]Chapter 18 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING He lay there a moment, nose smarting. I have to stop doing that, he thought. He felt prickling sensations on his back. He rolled over. The floor was wet. It was a warm wetness. Tell me I didn’t, he thought. He clutched his crotch. Dry.

[Posted Fri 4 Dec]Chapter 17 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING Power coursed through Kennet’s arms, and he sensed that if he continued, he would shake the man’s head clean off, and some warning was triggered in his brain that compelled him to release his grip and he threw his arms up and he brought his elbows and forearms up to his face and he squeezed his head between them, squeezed hard, and he heard a moan, a moan that built in intensity.

[Posted Tue 1 Dec]Chapter 16 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING “’M home now,” he said. “Go now. Go now.” He craned his neck to look at Kennet. “Get out,” he said, without emphasis. He grasped the door knob with his left hand and the door with is other and wrenched himself around to face Kennet. “Get out ‘fore I call the cops,” he said.

[Posted Fri 27 Nov]Chapter 15 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING “I’m sorry,” said Kennet, “for your friend.” “Not a close friend. But I knew him. And I regret . . . you found him. It must have been hard . . . on you.” “In my former job, I found a lot of bodies.” Kennet took a breath. “I confess . . . after a while . . . I grew insensitive to bodies. I had to cope, somehow. Then came a time when . . . I recovered my sensitivity. And I became less effective . . . at that job. Now I teach.

[Posted Tue 24 Nov]Chapter 14 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING Gaspar shrugged. “He never asked. He asked me about Larry. And for a while there, I thought I was in trouble. I . . . I didn’t mention about Moe and Curly and Shem. Am I in trouble now?” “Not with me. Did anyone ever call Moe or Curly or Shem?” “Just for Curly. Just a few minutes ago, as a matter of fact.”

[Posted Tue 17 Nov]Chapter 12 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING [Kennet] “An older gray Hyundai wouldn’t draw much attention in these parts. I’ve seen a lot of older gray cars, in a variety of colours.” “Yes . . . nondescript.” “Someone was paying above market price for a nondescript car, one that wouldn’t draw attention.” Marchand said, “Yes. And we would not be stopping a car in good condition . . . “

[Posted Fri 13 Nov]Chapter11 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING Marchand said, “You walk like an old man. You hurt?” Kennet sank gratefully into the cushions, tissue balled up in his fist. “Yes. But I have a cure. I have a lead in the case. How would you like to make the drug bust of your career?” Marchand pulled up a padded chair and sat down. “Okay. I forgive you. Tell me about it.”

[Posted Tue 10 Nov]Chapter 10- Year 2011 - GONE FISHING[Kennet] “I want to know about the local drug scene.” Karl threw back his head and laughed. “You’ve come to the right place. I’m the authority on that. And what is your interest, exactly?” “I teach at the university.,” “Really. And here I am, thinking you’re a law enforcement officer, an undercover.”

[Posted Fri 6 Nov]Chapter 9 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING Kennet flipped the phone shut. Well, that clarified matters. He wouldn’t be talking to Jillian [Detachment Commander] tonight, or to Detective Marchand. They’d be off duty, and besides, he had no idea how to contact them after hours. The detachment office opened at seven in the morning. Till then he was free to - he was obliged to - follow his instincts.

[Posted Tue 3 Nov]Chapter 8 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING Their talk drifted to other subjects, to Geraldton’s early days, to Kennet’s father, his role as superintendent for Neenah-Clark Canada Ltd., with an office in Longlac. How unusual it was for a Neenah-Clark manager to make his home in Geraldton, twenty-five miles away . . . “Your father was thinking of you,” said Andrija. “Eh?” “Of you and your little brother.”

[Posted Fri 30 Oct]Chapter 7 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING “Marcus, listen. These guys are criminals. They have guns.” “Guns? Hey! What really happened out there?” “Just be careful. Follow my lead.” Kennet walked cautiously, kayak on his shoulder. The clearing, apparently an old gravel pit, featured some large boulder piles and clumps of brush. When he heard a vehicle approaching, he crouched behind some brush, lowering the kayak, and checking that Marcus followed suit. Through the leaves he saw a red pickup dash past, heading south. He didn’t recognize the make of the truck. “That’s them,” he whispered.

[Posted Tue 27 Oct]Chapter 6 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING Squatting beside the kayak, Kennet pulled the daypack from a hatch and extracted binoculars and a camera. He slipped the compact camera into one shirt pocket, tucked the GPS into another, and hung the glasses from his neck. He then pulled out a newspaper. “What the hell’re you doing?” “Might find some time for reading.” “The hell you will.” “Well, you will. I just need this.” Kennet slipped off the front-and-rear-page sheet and handed Marcus the remainder. Kennet removed his brightly coloured PFD, dropped it into the boat, and stuffed the folded sheet into his shirt. He then saluted the glowering Marcus and stepped into the tangle of alders and black spruce.

[Posted Fri 23 Oct]Chapter 5 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHINGKennet pulled out the used envelope and passed it over. It was addressed to Occupant. Robert opened the flap, looked inside, and whistled soundlessly. “Okay. Should I arrest you now?” “It’s evidence. From my informant. This is where I need your advice.” “The crime unit has to investigate. They have to talk to your informant.” Kennet looked steadily at Robert, lips pursed. After twenty seconds, Robert said, “Then you have to show them where this plantation is.” “I don’t know where it is . . . exactly . . .”

[Posted Tue 20 Oct]Chapter 4 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING “Sure,” said Camo. “Just wanted to warn you of the dangers.” He now displayed a lopsided grin between sentences. “Explain, please.” Blondie had extracted a crossbow from the box. He sat himself on the tailgate and began fiddling with the mechanism. Camo said, “Washouts. Windfalls. You could get bunged up. Your nice paint job could get all scratched up . . . Tough to explain to the insurance . . . after you been warned.” “Looks like you’re hunting.” “Could be. Could be bear . . . moose . . . alligator . . . “

[Posted Fri 16 Oct]Chapter 3 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING In the early days, timber company managers such as foremen and superintendents resorted to this artifice to eliminate folds in a map sheet, folds that would soon weaken and tear with repetitive folding and unfolding. That made it an old map. The frayed edges and old stains confirmed it was a really old map. But the leaves were fresh. The leaves of cannabis.

[Posted Tue 13 Oct]Chapter 2 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHING The man’s left hand was bloody. Blood had welled from the wound but it was no longer flowing. It was coagulating in the area of his solar plexus. A ray of orangey sunlight had penetrated the screen of trees and traversed the man’s right shoulder and chest and stomach and highlighted the wound. A weird though flickered through Kennet’s mind: the sun’s sucking up his life . . .

[Posted Fri 9 Oct]Chapter 1 - Year 2011 - GONE FISHINGThere had been one curious incident. As they had launched the canoe upstream from the falls, Marcus had snatched up a piece of flotsam. “What the hell is this?” He held up a transparent plastic pouch, empty, its jagged opening explaining the lack of contents. “Garbage! Goddamn it. I’d like to catch the litterbug!” “What is it?” “How the hell do I know? Kool-Aid, maybe. Pancake mix. Milk powder.” He scrunched up the bag and stuffed it in his daypack.

[Posted Thu 8 Oct]Year 1961 - CAMP 58 The huge orange Timberjack was on the point of toppling down the hill. The machine had been climbing the hill when it had tilted dangerously. One front wheel rested on a boulder. Marc had hit the emergency stop. Immediately the air intake had closed. The fuel feed had shut down. If the machine had toppled, Marc would have survived in the metal cab, but only if the spurting fuel had not exploded into flame when it hit the red-hot engine parts. “That thing,” said Marc, “it try to kill me again.”